


Poolside

by Damalia (Achrya)



Series: EreminAU week, 2016 [6]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: ...look. listen. Armin is thirsty as fuck, Alternate Universe - Swimming, M/M, Pining, Swim Team, Teasing, Thoughts of masturbation, thirst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-29
Updated: 2016-05-29
Packaged: 2018-07-10 22:11:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7010302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Achrya/pseuds/Damalia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Armin is watching Eren in the pool. It's an event.</p><p>Eremin Week Day 7: Sports</p>
            </blockquote>





	Poolside

 

Armin sat, legs dangling over the edge of the pool as he kept half an eye on Eren who was...well, flailing awkwardly yet again. He was attempting to learn a new stroke, under Armin’s careful eye, and it was going about as well as expected. Which was to say badly. Though, thankfully, not as badly as the first time they’d tried to teach him to swim. 

One of the best things about joining the swim team was that he and Eren were hanging out again. he’d missed his friend during the period time they weren't speaking to each other but now he felt like they were closer than ever. Also he got to watch Eren walk around and swim and...there was certainly a lot of good things about that. All that time on the track team had been good for Eren’s body to say the absolute least of the matter. 

So good. Almost too good. Armin didn’t think he was a shallow person and he didn’t go around quietly ogling every well built guy he saw, unlike a certain team manager, but Eren was an exception to all that. He never would have expected that his skinny, scrappy childhood best friend would end up like...this. Dark messy hair, beautiful blue-green eyes, wide shoulders, broad chest, thin waist, ridiculous abs, and his back was just-

There probably should have been laws. Or at least rules against speedos. Not that Armin was complaining, he was the one who’d provided the speedo that served as Eren’s ‘backup’ suit afterall. He was just saying there probably shouldn’t have been rules against it.  

“You’re drooling.” Bertholdt said quietly as he plopped down next to him. 

Armin nodded. “Yes I am.”  

He saw Bertholdt grinning out of the corner of his eye and smiled back. His crush, or perhaps overwhelming and disgusting lust would have been accurate, on Eren wasn’t exactly a secret. Bertholdt knew. Sasha and Mikasa knew. Ms. Hanji-Ral knew. Marco didn’t know but then Marco, for all that he was a great friend and fantastic person, was oblivious to anything that wasn’t swimming. 

Or Jean. 

Speaking of Marco. He twisted around, finally tearing his eyes away from Eren’s attempts at the breaststroke, to eyeball Marco who was shedding his uniform to reveal his everpresent swimsuit underneath. 

“Maaar-co.” He called, smiling broadly when the taller boy looked up at him. “I saw you and Jean were talking this morning.” 

Bertholdt stiffened then turned around as well, eyebrows up. “Were you? You didn’t say anything to me about seeing Jean. What was he even doing here?” 

“Talking to Sasha. Family stuff.” Marco said dismissively as he shimmied out of his slacks. “We talked about the meet coming up.” 

Armin’s smile grew and he kicked his feet, submerged in the pool up his calves, playfully. “Oh yeah? Didn’t look like you were doing much talking.” 

Marco’s head cocked to the side, making him the image of a confused puppy. “What do you mean?” 

“I mean I’ve never talked to anyone by slamming them up against the side of a building, boxing them in with my arms, and getting so close we might as well have been wearing the same clothes.” Armin was smirking now. Opportunities to tease Marco were far and few between but when they came he was all too happy to take them.  

That’s what being friends was all about wasn’t it? 

Except, of course, that Marco tended to be sort of unflappable. Case in point he was just squinting at Armin, lips pursed. “We...argued.” 

“That was literally the most sexual and sort of gay argument I’ve ever seen.” Armin deadpanned. Marco’s eyebrows went up so far they were trying to become part of his hairline; Armin switched his attention to a bemused looking Bertholdt. “'Marco and Jean looked about 20 seconds away from loud, angry, potentially violent fucking against the wall. I’ve seen porn with less sexual tension.”

Bertholdt’s cheeks pinkened then, after taking a moment to pinch the bridge of his nose, cast a look back into the pool. “Looks like Eren’s drowning again.” 

Armin whipped around, eyes wide, momentarily forgetting that Eren was much better than he used to be at swimming and thus probably wasn’t actually drowning or anything of the sort. And if he was Bertholdt wouldn’t have been so bland while stating it. 

And he wasn’t.  

What he was doing was pulling himself up over the side of the poor. His hair was plastered to his head, water beading and dripping down slick tanned skin. His arm and shoulder muscles were bulging and straining under his weight as he levered himself up, The speedo was tight on his ass (it had been a size of two too big for Armin but that rendered it a bit too small for Eren, seemingly clinging to his body for all it was worth. Jesus, were they tighter than they’d been last time he’d worn them? He looked like one wrong move would have him busting out all over the place. 

His thighs, thick and well muscled from years of sports, flexed as he brought his legs up so he was kneeling to the ground. He reached up to run his fingers through his hair, spraying more water around, as he rose up to his feet and turned to face them. Armin, who tried very hard to be a good and decent person at least 90% of the time, couldn’t stop his eyes from trailing over Eren’s dripping torso, over the light dusting of hair trailing from his bellybutton to under the waistband of his bottoms, to the bulge in the front of the oh-so snug speedo. 

Which had absolutely shrunk. Or maybe Eren was just...larger than normal?  

“Is your nose is bleeding?”

He slapped a hand over it, glaring up at Bertholdt. “Shut up.” 

Bertholdt, who was carefully avoiding looking in Eren’s direction because he was a better person than Armin was, chuckled softly. “What were you saying about sexual tension?” 

“I don’t remember.” Eren had trotted off to grab the towel he had sat on a bench and was toweling himself off, bending and stretching what seemed to be an absolutely excessive amount. Did he always do that? Was today just a special day? Or maybe Armin was just abnormally horny. 

Living in a dorm room with two other boys and sharing a bathroom with roughly three dozen other people  kind of made finding the time for certain activities private activities harder

Though Armin knew for a fact that some of the older guys got together in a particular dorm room and handled that sort of thing as a group which was all fine and dandy but Armin had some height based anxiety and...it just wasn’t his scene. 

Yet. 

He’d only been at Garrison Academy a month so who knew how he’d feel about it by winter break. Or next month. Or next week. 

He looked over at Eren again, squeaking at the sight of his friend with one foot up on the bench, bent over as he toweled off his feet, ass thrust out and up. 

Or...later that night. 

“Why don’t you just tell Eren you’re interested?” 

Armin gaped at Marco open mouthed for a moment, not sure what was more shocking: that Marco was actually aware of something other than the pool or that he was giving him ‘relationship’ advice. Marco. Marco Bodt. Giving him advice. 

What was the world coming to? 

He frowned. “When are you going to tell Jean how you feel?” 

“Jean knows exactly how I feel.” Marco said it like he thought Armin was stupid for even thinking otherwise. 

Even Bertholdt looked confused and surprised. “He does?” 

Marco nodded. “Of course. He knows that I feel like he’s a great competitor and really pushes me and that I can’t wait for the meet so we can go head to head.” 

Armin’s eyes slide over the Bertholdt. The older teen just shook his head and mouthed ‘don’t’. Armin nodded, figuring that where Marco was concerned just letting it go was for the best, then levered himself down into the pool. The water was cold enough to make him gasp as he plunged into it up to chest. If he was going to be able to walk out of here and back to the dorm without being embarrassed the cold was just what he needed. 

He very deliberately didn’t pay attention to Bertholdt’s knowing smirk. 

**Author's Note:**

> For the sake of age clarity, if anyone was curious, Armin is 16, in the 10th grade. Marco, Bertholdt, and Eren are 17, in the 11th grade. All go to Garrison Academy (goes from grade 6-12) Armin in his first year, Eren in his sixth, and the other two in their third.


End file.
